


The Fates

by Bunnyhops



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnyhops/pseuds/Bunnyhops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cool breeze swept by, making her shiver.  The time was nearing where they would get captured, she would get tortured, and Dobby would die.  She just couldn’t let that happen again, and if Ron didn’t cooperate right now, she would place him under the Imperious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fates

Disclaimer: I own nothing

 

Aggravation. Exasperation. Frustration. Those words accurately described her emotional state right now, facing off with Ron and attempting, with every fiber of her being, not to cast the _Imperious Curse_ over him. Though, the more she thought about it, the more appealing casting an Unforgiveable sounded to her.

Hermione decided that either way, willing or not, Ron would do exactly what she wanted him to do – end of story.

Ron was yelling again. This argument or debate or whatever it was, was turning into a ‘ _this hunt is so hard on me_ ’ guilt trip rather than a ‘ _what we’re doing next’_ discussion. Hermione rolled her eyes despite her best efforts not to. She acknowledged that validating other’s feelings was the best way to assure their cooperation, but she just couldn’t help herself when it came to Ron. She was still so angry with him… for everything and her anger seemed to amplify the second time round. It was moments like this one that prompted her subconscious to list his offenses clearly and succinctly.

*He’d called her mental every time he had the inclination.

*He’d dismissed her knowledge and recommendations. He knew she was smarter than he was, had a better grasp of magic and spells, not to mention the fact that her cache of spells successfully cast was terribly greater than his was, but that didn’t lend credibility to her in his book. _Idiot_!

*Lavender.

*Leaving Harry and her.

*Returning to Harry and her, and just assuming that all would be water under the bridge.

This was why she hadn’t told him, Harry either, the entire story of how Ron was able to find them again and how she had ‘just appeared’ by the tree where Ron was walking aimlessly. Neither could be trusted… for different reasons of course.

Hermione knew where they needed to go and what they needed to do, but she was having to argue her point time and time again, because Harry – bless his Snitchy little socks – couldn’t make a decision to save his life nor did he like confrontation, especially when it concerned his two best friends. And Ron was unable to see Hermione as an equal partner.

Hermione sighed. They were hungry and tired and could use a little alone time. “How about this? Let’s take a moment to gather our wits about us. We can get cleaned up and prepare a meal then revisit the subject in an hour or so. What do you think?”

Harry was nodding, relief written all over his face.

Ron was shaking his head stubbornly.

Looking at her red-faced friend, who was refusing to even look at her by this point, she was overcome with a sensation of longing.

She missed _Him_.

She missed the way _He_ listened intently with everything about him reflecting his concentration on whomever he was listening to; her primarily. She missed how incredibly logical _He_ was; in comparison to Ron, _He_ was the very epitome of reason. Still, _He_ was very passionate and affectionate, and could be irrational given the right circumstances; for instance his possessive nature regarding anything that had to do with Hermione.

Looking around, she shook her head. It was déjà vu all over again. Sitting by the tent, she let her thoughts drift away from her.

**_The First Time Round_ **

Hermione was awakened by a frantic Harry calling her name. She jumped out of the sleeping bag and stumbled out the mouth of the tent, cursing for not having her wand. What she saw stopped her cold: Harry was soaking wet and shivering, and Ron was walking, smiling behind him, and carrying the sword of Gryffindor.

Apparently, Ron had saved Harry from drowning, pulled out the sword of Gryffindor from the frigid waters, and used it to destroy the Horcrux _after_ the evil thing had taunted him with his greatest insecurities.

She recognized his bravery and thought his actions commendable, but it didn’t bring her any closer to forgiving him. And the idea that he was absolutely begging for her accolades was just making her want to sneer in his direction.

After threatening to hex him and after he told her some ridiculous story about how he ‘felt’ her in his heart and that’s how he found them and after Harry fell for it even if Hermione did not, they packed up and Disapparated with Ron in tow.

From there, they were captured, Hermione was tortured, Dobby was killed by Belltrix, the three broke into Gringotts, the three of them broke out of Gringotts… on a dragon, and in the end, it was all for naught. Harry, Ron, her parents, Professor McGonagall, Neville, Seamus, everyone that she loved, died a horrible death.

She had given up at that point; there was no hope for her. She was on her knees in front of Voldemort waiting for death. Her eyes were closed, her mind prayed for redemption, her soul cried out with injustice, her heart yearned for revenge; and then it happened – the world went quiet.  

She opened her eyes and saw an angel before her. He was smiling at her, with gray-blue eyes and white blond hair.

“Are you alright, pet?” Hermione wasn’t quite ‘awake’ yet, but she was aware enough to realize that she wasn’t anywhere familiar; quite possibly dead. “Am I dead?” she asked trying to rise.

She was stopped by a large, gentle hand to her shoulder. “Easy. Not dead, no. You’re at my home, pet.”

When Hermione opened her eyes and was able to sit up after a few moments, she looked around at the large shade tree they were under, the verdant lawns as far as her eyes could see, and the beautifully manicured flower gardens that added a pleasant distraction to the rolling hills.

“Welcome to Malfoy Manor,” he said coming to stand and pulling her up with him.

Hermione was struck with fear then confusion. “How did I get here?”

Hermione was now being overcome with just how beautiful he was. She wasn’t one to become goosey-eyed over a wizard, but this man was lovely. Chiseled featured, broad chest, muscled arms, tapered torso; he was tall and thick and masculine and he filled out the leather bottoms he was wearing very nicely.

“Had your fill then?” he asked, making her blush and him chuckle. “Like an angel from the sky, you fell just as I was returning home from my afternoon ride through the Bridle Path. I’m not sure how you got through our wards, but you did. So you’re either family,” he made a face, “or a very powerful being.”

Hermione realized that he was focused not on her face, but lower. Her eyes searched where his were staring and finally, she blushed again as understanding dawned. Her blouse had folded and was baring her midriff. She gasped and righted the shirt. “Sorry,” she murmured.

He smiled again. “Quite alright.”

**_OoO_ **

Now, here she was again. In the same place, near the same river, with the same morose attitude, but what was different was that this time, Hermione knew exactly what needed to be done to win the war.

Once this was over and the war was done, she would pay her respects to _Him_ properly; find the portrait of them together. The only one painted. It was probably still in the attic in Malfoy Manor, untouched and dusty.

Her heart ached when she thought of continuing this time without _Him_. It was for the best, though, as he would most likely hate her right now if he had lived.

**** _Malfoy Manor - then_**

They had an instant connection. Hermione had never experienced anything quite like it. She thought that she had shared something with Harry, but it was nothing like this and she’d barely even met the man. In fact, she didn’t even know his name. He was a Malfoy. He resembled both Draco and Lucius. He was dressed in leather pants, dragon hide boots and a form fitting button down shirt. His attire was extremely flattering.

He’d just asked her a question.

“I’m sorry, would you repeat that?” she asked mildly embarrassed that she’d been caught ogling… again.

He smiled. “You hit your head pretty hard, yeah?”

Hermione gave him a tight smile and looked down. “Sorry,” she mumbled, wondering what world she’d been thrust into.

Tugging her arm, he pushed up on her chin with his knuckle. “I’m just teasing. Do you have a name?”

Nodding and hoping he wouldn’t stop touching her, she answered. “Hermione.”

Not able to look away, he tilted his head and smiled. “That’s pretty. I’m Abraxas.” Hermione recognized the name immediately. She’d done her research and made she knew all there was to know about the Malfoys.

_Holy Shite! Forty years in the past!_

“Hermione?” His knuckles still under her chin, but now his thumb was tracing her bottom lip. It was doing crazy things to her mind… and her heart.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to kiss you now. I hope you don’t think me too forward.” His voice was rich and deep and melodic. She was in a trance.

“Yes, please,” she said with a sigh.

Her pliable lips met their counters in his warm and demanding ones. She felt her arms rise to grip his strong shoulders and mentally trilled with delight when he moaned as he crushed her body to his. Their breaths came out in long hisses through their noses. They couldn’t be parted long enough to gulp much needed air.

When his tongue languidly traced her bottom lip, her thighs went up in flames and her bones were on the verge of liquefying. He pulled away for a moment, but dropped his head to gently rest his fore head to hers. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice was rushed and raspy.

Hermione gave him the abridged version; that she had been fighting a war and she was on the verge of being killed by a maniacal wizard when she had pleaded with all of her energy that she not end this way. Then she woke up here.

Abraxas looked befuddled for a moment then grinned. “I have an idea, but we’ll need to do some fact checking in the library. How are you with research, pet?”

Feeling hope and an irresistible thrill in anticipation of having access to the renowned Malfoy library, in addition to the tingly feeling all over her skin at being the subject of his smile, had her nearly skipping down the path towards the large Manor house. “I can hold my own,” she called over her shoulder. “Coming?”

She heard him chuckle and jog to catch her. Abraxas took her hand as he passed her and pulled her along. They were like two young lovers, who had known each other for years, so comfortable as to run along holding hands and laughing. It was a bit dizzying for her and she wondered if it was an effect of the transportation. Perhaps the magic would settle and they would separate?

The two spent hours mulling through books before Abraxas found what he was looking for. “I’ve got it.” He slid in next to her negotiating his way through her stack of books and pointed. “The Fates; they granted your wish.”

Hermione read the excerpt and frowned. “It says I must prove my worthiness by rectifying a wrong. I don’t know how to do that. Do I go back? How? Do I live a life of servitude in this time?” Her last question had Abraxas furrow his brows with confusion, but she didn’t dally on whether she’d said too much.

“Abraxas… What do I do?” She was feeling particularly vulnerable and still hadn’t had a moment to grieve for those that she’d lost. It was not like her to ask someone else what she should do. Hermione was shaking her head and didn’t let him speak; instead continued on, “I’ve nowhere to go, no Galleons, no change of clothes, no nothing…” Then she realized that he probably thought she was giving him some sort of sob story. Her head snapped up and she quickly added, “Not that that’s your problem, Abraxas. I- I didn’t mean to whing my woes, I just… I don’t know-“

“Hermione, love. Stay here. I have more Galleons than I know what to do with and it’s just me and the elves.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, but it did appeal to her for more reasons than one. Weren’t they more reserved during this time? Surely, a single witch and single wizard living together without any supervision would be considered inappropriate?

Abraxas huffed with humor. “Gryffindor.”

Hermione scowled and opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it with an explanation. “It’s the school where I graduated; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There were four Houses of dorms: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and my beloved Slytherin House. Gryffindor students weren’t well-known for their …subtle expression of emotion. Yours are written all over your face. Public opinion doesn’t matter to me. Whatever I do won’t deter magical folk from spending their Galleons purchasing my goods. Are you worried?”

The teasing sparkle in his eyes were enough to make her smile.

“No.” Something occurred to her then. “Where are your parents, Abraxas?”

“Dead.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one. You?”

“Eighteen.”

“Married?”

To that, Hermione shook her head vehemently. “Not yet. Girlfriend?”

“Not yet.”

A silence fell over them for a moment, while he watched her ponder the situation. He sincerely hoped she stayed. He was inexplicably drawn to her and he felt the need to explore that further. It was times such as these that he wished his father were still alive to offer guidance – Was she his mate? Is that what he was feeling? After much mental debate, Hermione nodded. “I’ll stay – thank you, but just until I find a way back to prove my worth.”

He’d take that. “Done. Hungry?”

Her stomach’s cry in protest answered that question quite clearly.

**_OoO Present_ **

A cool breeze swept by, making her shiver. The time was nearing where they would get captured, she would get tortured, and Dobby would die. She just couldn’t let that happen again, and if Ron didn’t cooperate right now, she would place him under the Imperious.

Hermione felt a presence beside her. It was Harry. “Thinking about Mystery Man again?” he asked with a smirk.

She smiled shyly and shrugged while they washed their hands together in the river. It was cold, but fresh and they both relished the way it made them feel wide awake. “I want to meet this wizard extraordinaire, who captured the bookish Hermione Granger’s heart.”

Tears burned her eyes, but she washed them away with the chilly water. “I don’t know if that’ll be possible, Harry.” Harry looked at her with a curious expression and noticed her blinking eyes and red cheeks; he knew it wasn’t from the water.  

Letting her have her privacy, he waited up by the bank of the river for her. As they walked back to the tent, he said, “You’re certain then?”

Hermione nodded.

Harry nodded with her for a moment then sighed. “Alright.”

That night, Hermione kept watch and planned what they had to do first.

**_*** Malfoy Manor then_ **

Hermione had been there six months having only made small discoveries on how to get back to her time.

In the meantime, Abraxas and Hermione had fallen into a routine. They had started out with Hermione sleeping in her own room, but her nightmares had prevented both her and him from getting a full night’s rest as he had found himself hugging her tightly as she screamed names he didn’t recognize: Harry, Ron, Professor Lupin…   She slept better when encased in his strong embrace, so seven weeks later, he led her to his bed and together, they fell asleep in the warmth of each other. It was difficult for him at first; he wanted her the way a man wants a woman, but he knew that she was yet untouched and not ready for that commitment.   Little did she know that he was falling in love with her.

They would wake, go exercise, eat breakfast then he would set to work in his study and she would spend her day in the library, researching, studying spells that may aide her in her efforts or just reading for pleasure. They went out on the weekends and socialized with his friends, who she now considered hers too. She’d become close with Cygnus Black; they were much alike in their views and only once did Muggle-borns enter the conversation. Abraxas quickly steered the discussion to other topics, sensing that his witch was too passionate about the subject. He was accurate in his assessment.

Hermione had decided not to press the issue of Tom Riddle at this time. Nothing guaranteed that if she killed him in this era that another different evil would be waiting for her in hers. Hermione opted for fighting the evil she knew.

At dinner, Abraxas and Hermione would dress and have a semi-formal meal discussing everything from politics to economics to basic good versus evil. They were well matched intellectually and she loved debating with him. There were never moments when their conversations would devolve into shouting matches; his impeccable manners just wouldn’t allow that, but she was never in fear that he would tune her out or storm away.

One night, she’d had one too many glasses of wine – two, making her giggle at everything he said. Huffing with mild impatience for her not absorbing the point he was trying to make, he snapped at her slightly. “Hermione!”

Hermione tilted her head, stood from the couch and walked to stand in front of his seated position. Abraxas looked up at her, waiting.

She plopped down on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Stop talking, Abraxas, and kiss me.”

Abraxas wasted no time pulling her closer and consuming her. It was a heady feeling to have her slowly wiggling her hips, seeking friction from his erection. She was sitting sideways, but he could feel the heat from her sex and her desire for him was palpable. He wanted this more than anything, but she wasn’t in her right mind and he certainly didn’t want her regretting anything; not when he would soon be requesting for her hand in marriage.

“Love? Mmmmmphhhhh, Love?”

“Hmmm?” She answered in between dotting kisses over his face.

“You’re not sober; I don’t want you to-“

“Abraxas, I want you. Do you want me?”

He swallowed. “Yes, you know I do.”

That was all the conversation they needed to have. He Apparated them to the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. Hermione closed her eyes and focused on every sensation his exquisite fingers created while he slowly removed her clothes. She was in heaven.

“Up, love,” he urged when pulling her knickers down her creamy thighs. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered before kneeling and kissing up her leg.

Hermione watched him spread her legs apart as he kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her belly was doing somersaults and her heart was fluttering wildly in her chest. No one had ever made her feel this way and her naked body was unchartered territory to everyone but herself.

When she felt his warm breath on her nether lips, she tensed. “Abraxas,” she said quietly alarmed.

“Shhhhh, pet, allow me.”

Forcing herself to relax, she laid back and keened with pleasure when his tongue stroked each lip slowly then dipped inside of her virgin canal. “Oh,” she sighed, her fingers moving of their own accord to card through his silky hair and keep his head right where it was.

Soon, she found her hips rising and falling to the rhythm his tongue set delving and tasting, twirling and flicking.

“Mmmmmmm, you taste like the Gods nectar.”

Finally, he gently braced her swollen clit with his teeth and swept his tongue back and forth, bringing a cry of ecstasy from her. Before she could recover, he had thrusted himself inside of her. Both felt the flimsy stretch of flesh tear from the imposition.

Hermione hissed in pain, and Abraxas stilled his movement, giving her time to adjust.

After a moment, she could feel his body shaking with restraint. “Move, love, please,” she urged, squeezing the flesh of his bum with her small fingers. Pulling out then pushing back in, he shuddered with pleasure. “Yesssss.”

Abraxas pumped slowly at first, watching her expressions and focusing on her body’s language. He had some difficulty tearing his eyes away from her bouncing breasts. Dipping lower, he captured a nipple in his mouth to suckle briefly.

Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted in a small ‘o’. Her fingers had trailed up the sides of his body and were now massaging his shoulders – he wondered if he would see the crescent moon shaped marks from her fingernails in the morning. Her knees and legs were opening wider, so that his pelvis hit her clit and then they would close to wrap around his waist, seating him further.

It, she, was intoxicating and he never wanted to be apart from her.

Abraxas could feel the tingle in his lower belly. “I’m going to come soon, love. Open up for me,” he ordered, rising onto his knees and placing his hands on her knees to position them up and out.

Moaning with desire, Hermione nodded frantically, urging him faster and harder.

With a cry of release, he spent his seed inside of her, thrusting shallowly until he could no longer move.

“I love you,” he whispered as he collapsed to the side of her.

“And I you,” she responded before falling asleep.

They awoke twice more that night to make love and consummate their feelings for each other. Falling asleep just before dawn, they once again said I love you to each other and settled into rest.

Hermione woke near a forest that she was all too familiar with, wearing similar clothing that she’d arrived in. She knew instantly that the fates had transported her back to her time and that she had a job to do, but she couldn’t help but mourn the loss of Abraxas; she loved him like no other and she vowed that she would always love him.

Angry with the Fates, she marched inside only to find Ron exasperated and looking for any sign of his two best friends.   She pushed her rage down deep inside the recesses of her soul, so she may use it when the time came. “Ron!” she hissed and almost laughed at the truly perplexed expression masking his normal vapid features.

**_***Present_ **

The Golden Trio were never captured by Snatchers and Hermione wasn’t tortured at Malfoy Manor by Bellatrix Lestrange. They were able to break into Gringotts through an obscure spell Hermione had found while researching during her time with Abraxas. All she’d needed was blood from a Black ancestor, which she had taken one day when Cygnus and she were out horseback riding. He had cut the palm of his hand on one of the posts and Hermione had cleaned his wound, siphoning his blood into a small vial she carried at all times. He didn’t notice, because his eyes were tightly shut and he was hissing like a child. Hermione didn’t know if she would ever need it, but something told her she would.

The dragon ride was still harrowing, but they’d made it safely out with the valuable items they had sought.

Upon first view of Bellatrix, Hermione had quickly cast the killing curse, catching the witch off guard. Hermione’s aim was true and Bellatrix was no longer.

The war ended a few weeks later with a bang, but her friends were alive, though the Order still had casualties; Professor Lupin and Tonks, Severus Snape, but for the most part, the side of light had won.

Two months later, she paid a visit to Malfoy Manor. It was a beautiful estate still, but she was worried. She’d testified for both Lucius and Draco. Narcissa had perished during the battle when an errant curse hit her square in the chest, causing her flesh to decay.

Hermione stepped up to the door prepared to knock, but was surprised to have the door open and Lucius Malfoy standing there like he’d expected her.

No words were spoken; he just stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. He closed the door, but didn’t move. She realized a second later, he knew. This was a test. Would she confirm that she was the witch over whom his father had obsessed?

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, down the hallway, up the stairs and through the doors to the study. The wards allowed her access and she heard Lucius’ sharp intake of breath. The wards hadn’t been altered in all this time.

Lucius offered her a drink to which she declined. Inhaling, she said, “There was a picture. We had it done… Do you have it still?”

Lucius smiled, a small rueful smirk, and nodded. “I’ve only seen it once when I was but a boy. He covered it and warded it so no one excepting him could reveal it. He spoke of you often; he loved you, but never spoke your name.”

This confused Hermione. “How did you know then?”

Motioning for her to sit, he told her that it was towards the last weeks of the war. “Things just went a bit too smoothly for you and your… friends. It seemed as though you knew exactly what you were doing. My mind’s eye flashed the memory of that picture. How did you spell the Time-Turner to take you back that far?” He was genuinely curious.

“I didn’t. The Fates.” That was all she said and he nodded; of course, The Fates.

Pointing to a dusty curtain on the wall, he had a faraway expression. “There, Miss Granger.”

Hermione stood and walked slowly to the hidden portrait. It gave easily under her tug and there before her eyes was the love of her life. “Abraxas,” she whispered through tears.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times and focusing on her. “Hermione.”

“Do you hate me?” she asked, her tone was pleading and Lucius could tell she was straining to hold in her sobs.

Abraxas leaned forward and seemed to fight back tears as well. “No, my love. You are my heart.”

She wanted to explain, tell him everything, but the only thing that came to mind was, “I’m pregnant, Abraxas. A daughter.”

This time the portrait of Abraxas Malfoy didn’t hold back, and he choked on a sob. He reached out to touch her, but could only go so far. The Hermione in the portrait was sleeping sounding though their fingers were tightly intertwined.

Lucius tried to make himself invisible, but this display of emotion from his rather austere father was too curious an occurrence. He realized with a start that he longed to know the Abraxas that she knew.

Abraxas regained his composure and urged Hermione to do the same. “Lucius,” Abraxas called with authority.

“Sir,” Lucius responded without delay.

“Do you have the ring, son?”

Lucius nodded and swallowed, moving quickly to retrieve it from the small safe in the wall.

Abraxas nodded to Lucius, giving him leave to perform the necessary ritual.

“Miss Granger, my father left this for you. He wove protection spells and bonding in the Runes set upon it. He would that you have it.”

Hermione sniffled and nodded, holding her finger out for Lucius to slip it on. The man in front of her paused and leaned in. Quietly, he asked, “Are you sure, Miss Granger?”

Thinking it odd, but putting it aside to Lucius’ strange behavior, she nodded.

The ring glowed and both Lucius and Hermione felt the push of magic into their magic. Hermione blacked out for a few minutes. She woke to find Lucius bent over her calling her name. It reminded her of when she woke to find Abraxas bent over her the first time.

Knowledge she shouldn’t have raced through her mind; memories she didn’t participate in, feelings of betrayal and guilt – feelings she had no reason to feel were swirling in her soul. “What…?”

“We’re bonded, Miss-“ Lucius was interrupted by Abraxas.

“Mrs.”

Lucius closed his eyes to settle himself and quickly pray to the Gods that he wasn’t the recipient of the killing curse from the small, confused, witch in front of him.

“The ring was created for you by my father. He was planning to take you as his wife. That ring would have bonded you to him, but since I am his heir, have his blood running through my veins, and I presented the ring to you, _we_ are bonded.”

Many hexes and ranting and exploding objects and months later, Hermione and Lucius were laughing together with the occasional affectionate touch from his fingers to hers. They hadn’t yet shared anything sexual, or even a kiss, but the attraction was there and their hugs were becoming lengthy.

He often rubbed his hand over her swelling belly and she coo’d at him when he rubbed her aching feet. Draco was surprisingly fine with the arrangement and thought it very interesting that she had slept with his grandfather.

Twelve years later, Hermione and Lucius were dropping off Amber Malfoy at the Hogwarts Express. The two were very much in love and thanked the Fates every day for their luck in ‘finding’ each other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
